


A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing)

by lajulie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Canon Divergence - Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Crack Treated Seriously, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Halloween, HanLeia Secret Santa, I am so sorry Leia, Magical Pregnancy, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multiple Orgasms, One Night Stands, Pregnancy, Prompt: A one-night stand results in unexpected (and supernatural) consequences, Sith Shenanigans (Star Wars), Trick or Treat: Trick, hanleiatrickortreat2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27205105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lajulie/pseuds/lajulie
Summary: It was the perfect plan, Leia thought. Best idea she'd ever had. One night of passion, and she could get Han (and her feelings for him) out of her system, before he had to go.Unwittingly producing a potential host for a Sith lord was definitely NOT part of the plan.Set right before and during ESB and written for @hanleiasecretsanta's 2020 HanLeia Trick or Treat event on Tumblr (a "Trick"/NSFW). Prompt: A one-night stand results in some unexpected (and supernatural) consequences.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34
Collections: Hanleia 2020 Halloween Trick or Treat Challenge





	A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Dessi (@otterandterrier) for her always helpful beta reading assistance and to the admins at @hanleiasecretsanta for sponsoring this prompt-a-thon!
> 
> And yes, the EU story of the Emperor trying to use Anakin Solo as a host was a bit of inspiration for the horror here, though equal weight probably has to be given to the TLC show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant." Again, Leia, I am very sorry.

Silence met Wedge’s story for a good minute, until Han finally spoke.

“That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard.”

Wedge shrugged. “My folks ran a fueling station; I used to hear a lot of crazy shit. And I thought this was just a weird legend….” He left off the implied _until now_.

Leia still hadn’t said anything; that didn’t seem like a good sign. She should be fighting him, yelling at Luke for bringing Wedge into this, demanding to leave the medbay immediately, making a plan to travel back in time and destroy whoever came up with this, _something_. Instead, she took a deep breath, and her eyes shifted focus from the three men in the room to the ceiling, like she was trying to work this all out in her head. Or trying not to cry.

Han himself was still struggling to understand. “So you’re sayin’—that Leia’s knocked up with the spawn of some Sith lord?”

“No,” Wedge said, shaking his head. “The baby is just a regular baby; it’s innocent, far as I know. But the legend says the Sith would use these babies...as host bodies. To move into, once the Sith's body deteriorates.”

Han suppressed a shudder at that, and it didn’t get better when Luke piped up. “So a Sith might—want it.”

Leia’s focus shifted back, and her face was grim, though her jaw was set with determination. “Like a Sith who wears a mask with a breathing apparatus.”

 _Shit. Vader._ The last being Leia needed to take a renewed interest in her.

 _We gotta get her—_ them _—out of here._

* * *

_32 hours earlier…._

The thought floated through Leia’s mind in the haze of orgasm, her fourth one of the night (or was it fifth? She’d lost count): _This was the best idea I’ve ever had._

This is how she would end it, the months of frustration, the constant push-pull, the fraught tension of their interactions, the sense that both of them wanted more than either of them could give. A controlled burn, to stop them from raging and taking everything down with them. Ord Mantell had scorched them both, brought them so close to tumbling into _lo_ —into _that_ , then ended in the outside world reminding them exactly why they could not.

“A one-time thing,” she had proposed. They would still be friends—she would always care about Han, always have a place in her buried heart for him—but she would save them both by finally providing a release for this thing between them. Get him out of her system, before he had to go.

And what a way to go out. Their kisses, first careful, then fervent; their hands, uncovering chest, curve, muscle, ass, thigh; their bodies, eager to bring skin against skin. His mouth had moved from hers to work the sweet spot on her neck, while his fingers had traveled down her side, spanning her hip and slipping between her thighs. She’d never been so fucking wet, so fucking ready—but he’d been in no hurry, happy to take his time caressing her folds until she was aching, then slipping one, then another finger inside her and moving them just so, till she was quaking around them, her legs shaking.

That had been the first one.

Then it had been back to the beginning, but higher, their hands running over one another’s bodies, mouths drunk on each other. Leia learned every spot that made Han groan and cry out, and he rendered her tongue speechless as his own circled her nipple and suckled it, his hand cupping and caressing the other breast until his mouth followed. And finally, Han had traveled down, down, across her stomach and into the valley between her thighs, where his tongue stayed and her words returned, mostly _please_ , _yes_ , _Han_ , and fevered invocations to the Goddess—

And there he’d remained for what seemed like forever. His face emerged periodically to look up at her, his green-gold eyes shining, mouth slick as he told her how kriffing good she tasted, before bending down to glide his tongue along her again. Her hands ran through his hair, pressed him to her and let go as the feeling reverberated through her body once, twice, who the fuck knew how many times. _Kriff. Damn. Nine hells. Goddess._

As pleased as he seemed to be to lick her cunt for eternity—and as incredible as that had already been— Leia wanted more. The next time Han emerged, she pulled him back up to her mouth, tasted herself on his lips.

“Fuck me, Han,” she breathed between kisses.

He pulled away for a moment and looked at her. “Really?” he asked.

That was an odd question, but maybe he didn’t think that was on the table. “Really,” she said, and put her hand on his cock for good measure.

He still seemed strangely tentative. They’d already shared information about clean medscans and working birth control, so she wasn’t sure what the hesitation was.

“Don’t act like you haven’t done this before, flyboy,” she teased, stroking him gently.

That got his attention. He kissed her again, harder this time, and moved his body over hers. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered into her neck, like he wanted to confirm it.

“I want you inside me,” she said, and then he was, and— _Holy Goddess, I thought his tongue was good._

And then Leia lost track of everything again, everything but Han in her arms, their hips moving together, his cock inside her, _Han, Han, Han, Goddess I love this, I love him, I never want this to end—_

It lasted much longer than she’d expected, given how much buildup there had already been, and before she knew it she was careening toward another orgasm. When hers hit, it was only a few moments before Han followed, her name like a prayer on his lips— _Leia, Leia, Leia_ —the rush from his release moving through her as she quivered in aftershocks around him. It was fucking euphoria; as he rolled off of her, the air around them still heady with sex, Leia felt like she’d been turned inside out.

Afterwards, it just seemed right to stay, to let Han hold her as they finally lay down to sleep, to be in his arms all night.

 _This was perfect_ , Leia thought as she drifted off, head on his chest. _One time, before he goes._

* * *

_(6 hours / 6 weeks)_

She’d intended to leave his bunk earlier, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to get up. 

It was her bladder that finally roused her, oddly insistent first thing in the morning. She crept to the ‘fresher to take care of it, suddenly aware of a mild queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as well. She hadn’t had a thing to drink the night before—she knew Han wouldn’t have gone for her little proposition if he’d had any reason to suspect she might be under the influence—but she felt a little hung over, to be honest. And a bit bloated. _Weird_.

She freshened up, gave her teeth a little brush, got dressed, and fixed her braids. She was tempted to slip off the ship without saying goodbye, but that would only mean awkwardness when she ran into Han later, and she wanted the lines to be clear. And no matter what had happened last night, they were still friends. Just because they’d agreed to keep it between themselves (and Chewie, whom she’d been warned would figure it out anyway) didn’t mean she had to be an asshole about it.

Han intercepted her en route back to his cabin, his face wearing a sleepier version of his usual grin, his hair disheveled in a way that made him sexier, somehow, _damn him_.

“Hey, Leia,” he greeted, then dipped down to kiss her before she could think otherwise.

She hadn’t really planned on kissing him again, intending for the time between day and night to put a clear boundary on this thing, but something about the way he said her name made her not only accept his kiss, but let herself dive back into it.

She needed to stop, though. “One time, remember? You agreed,” she said, pulling away.

He nodded, and was about to say something else when she cut him off. “I have an early briefing.”

“I know,” he responded. “Was gonna make you some kaffe.”

 _Yes, kaffe. That’s what I need._ She wasn’t lying when she said she needed to go, though, especially if she wanted to make it there unnoticed by the sharp-eyed gossips on base. On the other hand, stopping by for some of Han’s kaffe was a good reason for her to be seen leaving the ship at this time of day.

“Sure, thanks,” she said, and followed Han to the lounge.

* * *

_(10 hours / 10 weeks)_

_Well, that was embarrassing._

Midway through her morning shift, and she’d nearly fainted in front of Carlist Rieekan. One minute she was standing there, going over contingency plans in case of a base evacuation, and the next, everything was fuzzy around the edges, and she felt all the blood leaving her head. She’d recovered without actually fainting—thanks to Carlist shoving a chair under her and making her put her head between her knees—but it had been a near thing. Thank the Goddess no one else was around.

“Lelila,” Carlist said, her childhood nickname gentle in his voice, “are you all right?”

Leia swallowed. Truthfully, she did not feel good, but in her brain’s frenzied attempts to make sense of this lingering hangover feeling, she realized— _I never ate that ration bar._ That would explain it, all that, uh, _exercise_ last night and then nothing in her system but kaffe this morning.

And not even that much kaffe. She’d stayed long enough for Han to make it, but had begun worrying about the time. Without missing a beat, he’d put the kaffe into a thermal mug as soon as it was brewed and handed it to her like he would any other morning she’d stopped by. Like that was the line _he’d_ drawn under last night.

She sat up carefully. “I’m fine, Carlist,” she said. “I just realized, I forgot to eat breakfast.” Odd as she felt, she did not enjoy going to Medical, so it was a bit of a comfort to know there was a rational explanation for this.

Carlist’s face was etched with concern. “Princess,” he said, returning to a less familiar address, “you need to take better care of yourself. “

“I know,” she said. She fished the ration bar out of her vest pocket. “I’ll have a quick snack, and I’ll be fine. Now where were we?”

Carlist looked a little dubious, but he turned back to the datapad they’d been reviewing before her little spell. Leia took a bite of the ration bar and did her best to ignore the revulsion she felt at the taste. _Have these bars always been this bad?_

* * *

_(15 hours / 15 weeks)_

_Fuck, yes._

_Quite literally,_ Leia thought to herself, amazed that her brain could construct such a quip in the wake of the orgasm she’d just had, her third of the afternoon.

 _Thought you just wanted a one-time thing_ , Han had teased when she’d pulled him aside after her afternoon shift and prompted their quick retreat to the _Falcon_.

 _It is,_ she’d shot back. It was the same day. She was making the rules here; she could make them whatever she—they—wanted.

And she’d been hungry for him all afternoon, images and memories from last night crowding her head every time she’d had a spare moment. Writing a report, going over navigation charts, meeting with Jan and Carlist on resource allocation—all invaded by thoughts of Han’s kisses, his touch, his incredible tongue, his cock. It was almost embarrassing, how wet she was; it felt like she’d turned into the lustful heroine of a holofilm, about to lose it at any moment.

The hangover feeling from this morning had left as mysteriously as it had come, replaced not only by this hunger for Han, but by a literal hunger that had impressed even the likes of Rogue Squadron.

“You’re gonna have a little food baby,” Hobbie had teased, after she’d plowed through more than twice her usual portion at lunch and begun snatching fried crispics off Wes’s tray.

“Look,” she’d said proudly, leaning back in her chair, “I already do.” She felt energized, alive; she needed fuel.

And she had an odd craving for pickled meiloorun, which she’d discovered in the food chiller on the _Falcon_ this afternoon. It had almost distracted her from what she’d come for— _whom_ she’d come for.

Han nuzzled her neck again, and she practically purred. Why had she been so afraid of this? Not only was he amazing in bed, but he cared about her, was tender with her—

 _Oh, yes._ That was the problem. Neither of them could afford to get in too deep; he was leaving, and she was all but married to the Rebellion. So the gentleness with which he was running his hands over her breasts right now—which she did appreciate, given that they were a bit sore today—and the softness of his eyes when he kissed her, when he asked her to stay, those were the problem.

She had to break the spell. And she had a meeting in a— _oh blast_ , she was going to be late if she didn’t leave soon.

“I have to go,” she said, and he gave another kiss to that spot on her neck and rose up. Despite the look he was giving her, he seemed to understand the realities, and didn’t argue.

After one last kiss, Leia turned to put back on her clothes. Or tried to. Somehow, her snowsuit had managed to shrink during their tryst. The top wouldn’t zip; the bottom wouldn’t button.

“Karking hells!” she exclaimed, trying it again. And again, to no avail. _The hell?_

Han was already fully dressed, his hair all mussed in that infuriatingly hot way again. “You all right?”

“Can’t get this closed,” she explained.

He spent a few minutes trying to help, but it wasn’t happening. On the bottom, her “food baby” was still there, and on top, it was like her chest had expanded. _So strange_. 

“You want to borrow something?” Han finally asked.

She gave him an exasperated scowl. “Oh yes, because nothing says ‘let’s keep this under wraps’ like me walking into a High Command meeting wearing your clothes!”

He gave her a small smile. “Just say you were helping me with repairs, spilled some engine grease on yourself. Then they can blame me anyway.”

* * *

_(21 hours / 21 weeks)_

_Thank the Goddess this day is nearly over._ Given her frequent nightmares and the cold that seeped into every pore on this godforsaken base, being tired was a way of life for Leia. But this was more than that. She was exhausted.

And something weird was going on with her body. Thankfully, she hadn’t felt queasy again—well, with the exception of when she’d passed the tauntaun pen this afternoon and had almost vomited from their incredible smell. _Ugh, so rank._

But her second round with Han must really have worked up an appetite; she’d had to physically restrain herself from eating more snacks in her High Command meeting, had consumed another impressive meal at dinner, and had gone through nearly all the emergency snacks in her desk this evening.

 _I could really go for some more pickled meiloorun right about now_ , she thought. Maybe she could get Han to bring her some.

She fanned herself again with her shirt—Han’s shirt, actually, which she had never bothered to change after the meeting. How the hells was she so warm all of a sudden? She was always freezing here.

The main thing was whatever was happening with her stomach. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like the rounded belly she’d had after lunch had only gotten…rounder. And during the High Command meeting she had periodically felt a strange little flutter in her abdomen. Like bubbles. She’d assumed it was just gas. But now it felt like—she really must be imagining it, but it felt almost like something was moving around in there.

 _Gods, maybe I’m just losing my mind._ She tried to refocus herself on the mission plan she was researching, when she felt it again. Movement.

 _It’s nothing_ , she assured herself. Probably just some sort of strange digestive thing. Hells, she’d eaten more today than she’d eaten some weeks, and that couldn’t be easy on her system. Maybe all that pickled meiloorun hadn’t been such a hot idea after all.

 _Maybe I have a parasite_. That was an awful thought, but possible, given that they’d eaten at some interesting places on their last few missions. And it would explain her sudden and intense hunger.

_Maybe I should go to Medical._

She shook it off. This was ridiculous. _It’s been a weird day. I didn’t get much sleep, I finally fucked Han, twice, I spent half the day working out evacuation contingency plans; no wonder I’m on edge. I’ll just finish this and I can go pass out. I’ll be fine in the morning._

Goddess damn it all, she had to pee again.

Just after she’d returned from the ‘fresher and refocused on her work, Han appeared. 

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” she returned, feeling both relieved and a little resentful at his presence. Why did he have to be so bloody handsome and good at sex? If she weren’t so preoccupied with whatever was going on with her body, she might consider asking him to make their one-time thing into a three-time thing.

_It would be a rather nice distraction…._

“Shift’s over,” he pointed out helpfully, as he often did when she worked late. Leia’s night time shifts in the command center didn’t really have an end time as far as she was concerned, no matter what the schedule said. She suspected that Carlist sometimes sent Han here to bother her out of working.

“You can finish that on the _Falcon_ ,” he suggested, motioning to her datapad. “It’s warmer there.”

 _Fine. Whatever_. She was too distracted tonight to get anything meaningful done anyway.

* * *

He owed it to Leia, to tell her himself.

Han’s original plan had been to go to Rieekan tomorrow, or as soon as Chewie deemed the ship nearly ready to go. Keep it simple, let him know about the death mark, make the goodbyes swift and as painless as possible. Like ripping off a bacta patch in one go.

That plan, Han had to admit, had kind of sucked. And he’d abandoned it as soon as Leia had approached him with her little proposal last night.

She had to have felt _something_ , if she’d come to him, if she’d slept with him, right? He could at least let her know he didn’t want to leave. That he’d come back to her, if he could. If she gave him a reason. And if nothing else, they were still friends. She deserved a real goodbye, at least.

He’d expected her to put up more of a fight about leaving the command center, especially since she’d been so keen on keeping their one-time thing under wraps. But maybe she’d sensed the need for a talk, too.

 _No whiskey_ , he’d decided. They could get hammered afterwards, if they wanted. They might need to.

“Made you some fresh kaffe,” he said, turning toward the galley as Leia sat down at the dejarik table. “I’ll go get it.”

“Uh—no thanks,” she said.

That was weird. He turned back. “Really? You practically live on kaffe. You feelin’ all right?”

It was meant to be a gently teasing question, but apparently that was the card that toppled the stack. With absolutely no warning, Leia burst into tears.

He’d seen her cry before, but it had always been in the throes of a nightmare, or the aftermath. And actual inquiries about her health were normally met with a cold glare, or a breezy declaration that she was just fine, thank you. Even the time she’d gotten that awful Dantoonian flu that put half the base in bed.

Was it wrong to hope that her tears had something to do with him? Had she already guessed what he’d brought her here to say?

He dismissed that thought immediately. Leia almost never cried. She’d endured unspeakable things; she was indomitable. He wasn’t sure what was up, but knew it had to be serious.

She was still crying, and seemed extremely embarrassed about it on top of that. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what the hells is wrong with me, just falling apart like—“

“Hey, hey. ‘S okay. Here, let me—you want a glass of water or something?” Han was still fumbling a bit.

“Okay,” she sniffled.

He brought her the water, and a handful of tissues, and by the time he’d returned she seemed to have composed herself again. “Thanks.”

He sat down beside her, concerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know why I did that. I just—well, there’s something strange going on with me. It’s just...my stomach, and I’m probably overreacting, but—“ She stopped abruptly, and lifted up the shirt she was wearing. His shirt.

Han only just stopped himself from gasping aloud. The rounded belly he’d kissed during their little afternoon rendezvous was significantly bigger now, big enough that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before. She grabbed his hand, placed it on her abdomen, and held it there, like she was waiting for something.

Something moved against his hand.

 _Oh, Gods._ Something was definitely not right. But he needed to stay calm, for her.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head. Whatever it was, it shifted and moved again.

“Leia,” he said softly, “I’m going to try to feel a little better what’s going on, if that’s okay.”

She nodded.

“When I press in, you let me know if it hurts, all right?”

“Okay.” Her eyes were watching him intently.

He pushed in gently with one hand. Something pushed back.

He took a deep breath, and tried to make his voice as gentle and steady as possible. “Leia, I don’t want you to freak out, but I think I need to take you to Medical.”

* * *

Han knew that Leia avoided going to Medical almost as much as he did; knowing what he did about Imperial interrogation, he could understand why. But by the time they got there, the calm, take-charge Leia that Han knew from their missions had fully taken over again.

That was probably a good thing, given the way the tech’s eyes turned to saucers when Leia opened the parka she’d borrowed from Han to reveal her swollen belly.

“I have a parasite, I think,” Leia said matter-of-factly, ignoring the tech’s shocked face. “I’m not sure where I picked it up or exactly what it is, but—it seems to be growing, and I need you to get it out of me as soon as possible.”

Leia’s confident tone seemed to have shaken the tech into remembering their job. “Okay, well, let’s bring you back. We’ll just run a couple quick scans, do some tests, and see what we’ve got.”

Han had a feeling he ought to stay, just in case, but he didn’t want to intrude. Thankfully, Leia took care of that right away. “Captain Solo has been with me for some of the most recent missions and may have some knowledge that would be helpful,” she said. “I’d like him to accompany me.”

“Of course,” the tech said, leading them to one of the exam areas. “Let’s get you set up, and I’ll bring in the medic shortly.”

“I wonder if I got it on Ord Mantell,” Leia said a bit later, as the medic ran the scanner over her abdomen. “Maybe they should test you, too, once they figure it out.”

Han considered with horror the idea of something swimming around in his stomach like that. “Yeah, maybe.”

“When did your last menstrual cycle start?” the medic asked.

That question seemed to hit a nerve; Leia grabbed Han’s hand, though she managed to keep her voice fairly nonchalant: “Um, I’m on the implant.” Most women of reproductive age in the Rebellion were; it stopped their periods as well as provided birth control. Han had smuggled the supplies quite frequently. 

_But shit, why did the medic ask that?_ Was this like, some kind of reproductive system thing? What kind of parasite did that? Or maybe it was some kind of fast-acting cancer. The Imperials put all kinds of fucked up things in their interrogation drugs, who the hells knew what she’d really been subjected to on the Death Star—

Leia squeezed his hand harder, and he squeezed back. He was glad he’d stayed here with her. It would be horrible to face whatever this was alone.

The medic was quiet for a few minutes, then looked up from his datapad. “Captain Solo, if you’ll step out for a moment, we have the Princess’s results.”

“Oh, he can stay,” Leia said hurriedly.

Han wasn’t quite sure what to say. That was a lot to trust him with. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” She still had her brave face on, but he could read the worry behind it.

He squeezed her hand again. “All right.”

The medic cleared his throat. “Well, Your Highness, both the blood tests and the scans indicate that you are pregnant.” 

_The fuck?_

Leia’s response was immediate. “With WHAT?”

Strangely, that didn’t seem to faze the medic at all. “It’s a human fetus, and based on the measurements and scan, I would estimate 22 weeks gestation.”

Leia’s mouth was hanging open. “That’s impossible….”

“At this point the fetus is too advanced to do a termination, unless your life or health were in danger, or if the fetus were nonviable,” the medic continued. “Normally I would recommend a gestational transfer should you not wish to continue the pregnancy, but unfortunately the Alliance lacks the equipment here to do that safely, so that's not an option.”

“No,” Leia said forcefully. “That can’t be right.”

The medic looked sympathetic. “I understand that you were on long-acting contraception, and although it’s very rare, it is possible your implant failed.”

“It’s a _parasite_ ,” Leia said, her voice getting louder and tighter as she went. “There’s no possible way I have been pregnant for 22 weeks. This all started today—“

“It is possible that under…certain circumstances, you may not have observed symptoms right away. Trauma, for instance…”

Han forced himself to remain calm. If someone had hurt Leia—

“…And with first pregnancies, it can sometimes take a bit longer for the changes to be obvious. Have you had other symptoms? Nausea, breast changes, unusual fatigue, frequent urination….”

Leia blinked silently, like she was still processing that.

“Changes in appetite, strange cravings?“

Han thought about his decimated supply of pickled meiloorun, and the meal she’d put away at lunch.

“Yes,” Leia said, finally. “But those all happened today. Since I got up this morning.”

“I see,” the medic said, noting something on his datapad.

“I’m telling you, it isn’t physically possible for me to be pregnant,” Leia insisted. “I haven’t been with—it’s been more than a year.”

Well, except for last night. And this afternoon. But if the medic thought it had been 22 weeks—

“I see,” the medic repeated.

Finally, the medic left the room, ostensibly to recheck the tests, but most likely to find the nearest mind healer. While he was kind, he pretty clearly thought Leia was just in denial, or had blocked out some encounter due to trauma. Or both.

Leia looked up at Han. “They’re wrong,” she said, quietly yet firmly. “It’s not possible. There was no one who could’ve—no way that could’ve happened.”

Han nodded. He believed her, of course he believed her, but Leia never liked to show vulnerability. He kept his gaze steady, and she answered his question before he could figure out how to ask it.

“Nobody hurt me, Han.”

“Okay,” he said, a rush of relief hitting him all at once. “Good.”

He wanted to say something encouraging, tell her they’d figure this out, help her feel better, but hollow reassurances had never been their thing.

Maybe he could interest her in a sarcastic comment, if he could think of one.

They still had a monitor on Leia’s belly. It was making a sort of rhythmic whooshing sound and feeding data to one of the droids. It was quiet otherwise, and relatively dark here this time of night. A little lonely, almost.

 _I’m supposed to be leaving_.

“Leia,” he decided then and there, “no matter what, I’ll be here. Not goin’ anywhere.” _Fuck Jabba. Fuck it all. I’m here, I’m staying, long as it takes._

For the first time in hours, he saw Leia smile. “Thank you.”

Han thanked every god available that he hadn’t yet announced his departure. And Chewie would understand. Chewie had never wanted to go anyway.

* * *

Two hours later, the medics were still conferring. They still didn’t believe her—one of the medics had said, _I believe you_ think _there wasn’t any contact five or six months ago that could have resulted in pregnancy_ —but Han had never been more certain that Leia was right. Particularly since whatever this thing inside her was, it was growing. Even in the time they’d been here, Leia’s abdomen had gotten visibly larger.

Leia had maintained her ground with the medics, employing her full arsenal of precise words and pointed looks, but when they left the room, the mask dropped and Han could see that she was overwhelmed.

“Han,” she said, “you saw me, last night. It wasn’t like—“

“No. Not at all,” he assured her. “Like you said, it all happened today.” He’d seen every centim of her, loved every bit of her last night. He could still remember mapping her body, savoring every curve and bend, knowing he might never have the chance to be with her like that again.

Though now that he thought about it, she had looked a little different during their time together this afternoon. Her breasts had been fuller, and she’d had a fairly pronounced little bump that he’d noticed but not thought much of, having seen the size of her meal at lunch. And she’d needed to borrow his clothes, because her snowsuit hadn’t fit. Meaning that the bump must have grown just in that short time, which meant— _oh_.

“Uh, Leia,” he said quietly, after a long pause.

She didn’t answer, but looked up at him.

“You think maybe…I should get tested?”

Her eyebrows went up. “For parasites?” _Oh, Gods_ , _she still hopes it’s a parasite, doesn’t she._

He couldn’t believe he was saying this, but—“Uh, no. To see if…if I’m the father.”

Leia’s eyes went wide, and for a moment she just stared at him. Finally, she nodded. “Yes.”

* * *

_(24 hours / 24 weeks)_

It was too damned quiet.

Maybe if she screamed, someone would wake her up from whatever the hell nightmare this was. Maybe Han would come get her, comfort her the way he had when she’d had nightmares on the _Falcon_.

Instead, everything was so subdued, calm, nearly silent. The medic sharing the test results that confirmed Han as the other biological parent of the fetus inside her. The other medic confirming the accelerated growth rate (equivalent to one hour for every gestational week of development, which explained why she’d been feeling this odd stretching sensation in addition to the movement). Even Han, still holding her hand, for once almost speechless.

The medics were doing that placating thing, where they kept promising to “look into this,” same as if she’d come in infected with a strange poison they couldn’t decipher, and they just didn’t want to tell her she was dying.

“I need to go,” she said aloud.

“To the ‘fresher again? Sure, Sweetheart, we can do that,” Han said, moving to help her off the med cot.

“No.” He didn’t understand. “I can’t be here anymore, I need to go—will you take me back to the _Falcon_?”

Han grinned. It was such a relief, to see that familiar look, instead of the skeptical and sympathetic faces of the medics. “Of course.”

* * *

_(32 hours / 32 weeks)_

Wedge pulled Luke aside after breakfast.

“Hey, is Leia okay?” he asked.

Luke wasn’t quite sure what to say to that; honestly, he was still trying to wrap his head around Leia’s situation himself.

“Heard she was in Medical, and Leia never goes to Medical,” Wedge continued. “You don’t need to tell me anything specific. Just a little worried about her.”

“Uh, yeah,” Luke said. “She’s okay. Just—they’re checking something out.” He wished his sabacc face were a lot better right about now.

Wedge seemed to buy it. “Good. Glad to hear that. Look, I know there’s a lot of weird rumors and jokes going around. People are just having fun, but...I’ll see if I can put a lid on things. She doesn’t need all that,” Wedge offered.

“Thanks,” Luke said. He paused, trying to seem noncommittal; if he knew what people were saying, maybe he could protect Leia from the worst of it. And prevent Han from murdering anyone on her behalf, not that Leia wasn’t perfectly capable of her own killing. “Uh, what kinds of rumors?”

One of Wedge’s eyebrows went up, and he got a conspiratorial look in his eye. “Well. The weirdest one? Was that she showed up to Medical like, six months pregnant. Like what, she grew a baby in a day?” He laughed softly.

Luke froze, but maintained his expression, in case Wedge chose to elaborate.

“Maybe Solo’s one of the Malluma’sinioro clan,” Wedge said, still laughing a bit.

“Malluma’sinioro?”

Wedge was shaking his head. “It’s this wild legend, about a clan of Corellians who have, I don’t know, super sperm or something? Anyway, supposedly if they have sex with a Jedi, it results in this like, instant pregnancy. Less than two days. And then a _Sith_ takes over the body.”

**Author's Note:**

> She's got a face that shows that she knows she's heard every line  
> Tenderly she talks on the phone  
> There's a way to walk that says "stay away"  
> And a time to go around the long way...  
> \--"A Girl in Trouble (Is A Temporary Thing)," Romeo Void


End file.
